


Friendly Fluffy Fragments (& Say That 5 Times Fast)

by SleepDepraved



Series: THE SLIDER [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Just a bit of fun, M/M, Multi, Pack Bonding, Pack Building, Pack Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepDepraved/pseuds/SleepDepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a lot of friends to catch up with now that he's back.<br/>--<br/>Short fluffy segways where Stiles chats with his pack mates about life, love, sex, work, school and mates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Isaac and Stiles doing yard work

**Author's Note:**

> **Timestamps in the SLIDERS series.**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac and Stiles chatting about the Argents and Scott.

“How exactly does a werewolf lead a hunter clan?” Stiles hopes he doesn’t sound accusatory. It’s not his intention to grill Isaac, he’s just naturally curious about everything okay? What else are they going to talk about while he helps Isaac clear the Argent yard of dried leaves and weeds.

“Very carefully,” Isaac deadpans, raking leaves into the ever towering pile.

“Ooh, Frenchy’s got some jokes.” Stiles is a little shit sometimes and he knows it.

Isaac sorta deserves it anyway. The pack has been giving him shit for his French-ness ever since they got over the novelty of having him around. Sometimes all Isaac talks about for hours is France this or French that. _In France we do it like zees. In France we say Champagne more like Shom-pain not Sham-pain._ Well Isaac, in America we say SHUT UP OH MY GOD! (Queue Skrillex). He’s happy for Isaac, he really is. The guy found the only place in the world that lets him wear superfluous scarfs without feeling like a nob. Good for him. Really. Okay, so maybe he should act his age. He’s almost 30, and Isaac is only 20. Teasing the younger man might be a bit unseemly and immature, but really Isaac, _we_? He’s been living there for 3 years, not your whole life.

Isaac just gives him a look. There’s no disgruntled sigh, no witty repartee. It’s kinda disappointing honestly. Isaac probably wants to tell him everything more than he wants to find out, and he’s a pretty curious guy so that’s saying something, but apologising is the sign of maturity right? Ugh, fine.

“Sorry. Tell me about the Argent clan, please.” Stiles acquiesces. 

Isaac waits a second, then shrugs. “Okay, the first thing to know is that hunter families are different from hunter clans.”

Right, Stiles knows this. A family is obviously just that, a group of blood or marriage related hunters. A clan is just a general term for ‘group of hunters’ whether they be relatives or not. 

“Being in a clan doesn’t mean you’re from a hunting family and vice versa.” Isaac has certainly gotten quite authoritative since the whole Argent thing. Stiles remembers him being much more timid than this. It’s nice to see the werewolf come out of his shell. He nods for the boy to go on. “Normally it makes no difference. The two terms are used interchangeably. The Argents, the Calaveras, these are hunter families. The Calaveras have more than 100 extended family members. It’s fucking huge. The Argents are smaller.” 

Minuscule these days, given all the deaths.

“The Argents have a family that provides leadership, and then there are hired muscle who all work in some official capacity with Argent Industries. It’s different from the Calaveras, who don’t bring in any outsiders unless you marry in.” Isaac continues. “Other clans like the Van Helsings are just a clan, no family leading them.”

“The Van Helsings are real?” Stiles doesn’t know if that’s awesome or terrifying. A bit of column A, a bit of column B.

“Yes, but they are not _the_ Van Helsings. Dad says the legend isn’t real. The modern Van Helsing clan is a homage.”

“Wow. So they’re fanboys? That’s actually pretty lame, I mean I get the whole—you know, _loving it so much you want to emulate it_ thing, I wanted to be in the Justice League growing up, but like, wow, they didn’t even pick a different name?” Stiles groans as he stuffs leaves into trash bags. 

“Oui... I mean, yes. Although they’ve been around for almost a century, so they are not to be taken lightly.” Isaac is quick to point out.

“Fair enough. Okay, so the Van Helsings are a clan, the Calaveras are a family, and the Argents are kinda both?”

“No. The hired muscle work for us, but they don’t go around calling themselves Argents.”  
“So—“ Stiles changes to a more sombre tone. “It’s only 2 people now—the family? Surely after hundreds of years, there are extended relatives.”

“It used to be bigger than just Gerard, dad, Victoria, Kate, and Alli—“ Isaac chokes on the last name.

Stiles gets it. He feels the pang too sometimes.

Isaac clears his throat and starts again. “They left and became the D’Orblanc clan. There was… Fran or Fanny, something, Argent. She was next in line to become the matriarch. She died of… suspicious circumstances. Then Kate became next in line and a lot of people believed that it was a power play by Gerard, which… ya know.” Isaac raises an eyebrow at Stiles like _duh obviously_.

Stiles had to agree. Gerard was definitely crazy enough to murder one of his own relatives for power. He’s essentially the human version of psychotic Peter, multiplied by a hundred. “So, even the Argents knew that Gerard was a nutjob.”

Isaac sighs. “Yeah. Then they left and some of them formed their own family. Others joined up with other clans.”

There must have been longer dissatisfaction within the Argent family if so many were willing to just abandon the name. Even if they hated Gerard, you’d assume a bunch of gun-crazy people wouldn’t just walk away from hundreds of years of history the way they did unless they were already aching to leave.

“Right. And what? Now the family is just you and Chris.” 

“Mmm,” Isaac agrees.

“They’d let a werewolf lead the clan?” Stiles still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Chris seemed alright these days, given everything, but it still seemed out of character for hunters to have werewolf leaders, which is what Isaac is being trained for. Werewolf allies, sure. It makes sense.

“Chris is the only true Argent now. He can do whatever he likes. And it’s rare, but hunter clans are not generally quite so—prejudiced. Not all clans, and most families, wouldn’t want their members to _hari kiri_ over being turned accidentally. At most they would expel you from the clan. The Argents though—“ Isaac winces. “It’s tricky. Gerard and Kate brought it a lot of hardliners, and they were insane. And remember in the end Gerard still wanted the bite. He must have thought it was possible to be a werewolf and still run the clan.”

Stiles snorts at that. Gerard. What a turd smeared prick. “So what happens to all the ‘hardliners’? Guess you fired them?”

“You can’t fire hunters. They just become freelancers. Dad had to… ‘clean house’.”

“Clean house!? Like…”

Isaac says nothing and just continues raking more leaves.

“Wow.”

“We had help from D’Orblancs. It’s a family pride thing. So our clan is down to 6 people.”

“From what?” Stiles winces.

There’s a pregnant pause before Isaac says, “From 15.”

“They executed—“ Stiles counts on his fingers. “9 people?”

“Only 3. Others were handed to hunters’ councils, regular authorities, so on.” Isaac says matter-of-factly.

Stiles is just dumfounded. He knew that hunters were like the mob, but wow. To actually hear about executions. He should feel satisfaction that murderers were put down, he’s not squeamish about making hard choices, but it just seems so… _business like_ and that’s what shocks him.

Isaac sighs like he too knows its brutal. “So it’s just dad and me now in the family, and the 6 in the clan.”

“And those guys are fine with you being all grrr?”

“Not really. They were just the ones with clean records as far as the code. But the D’Orblancs have 2 weres in their clan. One wolf and one panther. They’re pretty cool actually. It shows that it can be done ya know?”

“Well, it’s a start I guess.” Stiles bobs his chin. Seems like under all the dead leaves are just more layers of dead leaves. They’ll probably rake a hole to China. “So what now? You’re here.” _And we want you to stay._

“Dad will move back here eventually once he finishes taking care of business there. It might take a while.” 

“How long is a while?”

“A few months or maybe longer. But we’ve been thinking of come back, not to Beacon Hills specifically, but the US. It’s a lot easier to recruit hunters here. And the weapons trading business here is a lot bigger too. He’s in the middle of something though, so yeah.”

“I don’t know how I feel about there being Argents in town, but for what it’s worth, I am glad you’re here.”

“Dad isn’t kidding about cleaning up. He’s in contact with the NAHL.”

“The naarl?”

“N-A-H-L, the North American Hunting League. They’re the main hunters’ council here. Gerard wanted nothing to do with them. Probably because, you know…” 

Probably because he didn’t intend to follow the code and didn’t want others cramping his style.

“Does this NAHL actually work or is it just small magnitudes of crazy less than Gerard?”

“I don’t know anything about NAHL, but the European councils are pretty legit. They run their target list through Interpol and get warrants and everything. Consider that Gerard was so heavily sanctioned there that he moved the entire clan to the US.”

“And the NAHL did nothing to him here.” Stiles is only a little bitter. All this time, there was a supposed hunters council and they did nothing to stop Gerard, nothing to move against Kate who burnt a whole family alive including human children. At best they’re impotent, at worse complicit.

Isaac shrugs. “You’ll have to talk to dad, or do some of your famous research. I got nothing.”

They stop for a snack break and sit on the floor of the sparse living room and play Smash Bros. Stiles’ is really rusty and Isaac has been practicing, so it sucks because he keeps losing. Let it be known though that he takes defeat like a gentleman, never resorting to blaming the controller, unless it is actually the controllers fault (which is all the time).

“Does Scott know?” Isaac asks while shunting Stiles over the edge. There’s no context to the question, but Stiles knows what he means. _Does Scott know that I’m his soulmate? Did you tell him?_ Stiles wasn’t going to bring it up unless Isaac did.

“Not unless someone else told him.” He really doubts it. Scott hasn’t called to freak out, and he would have if he’d known.

“I don’t know what to say to him.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. If the soulmates thing is real, then it will happen anyway. No need for me to meddle ya know?” Stiles is a little peeved at Kira for spilling to Isaac, but he suspects that she is a little sore over the fact that Scott has another soulmate that isn’t here, like Scott was destined to break up with her. It’s like middle-child syndrome, but with soulmates.

“I don’t even know if I like him like that.”

Okay, now that is something Stiles doesn’t believe for a second. “Are you sure? Back when we were sophomores, I got the distinct vibe that you were crushing on him something fierce.” 

Isaac lets his hands go limp, resting the Wii controller in his lap. “I mean, now.”

It’s a lie, Stiles knows. He doesn’t even have to hear Isaac’s heartbeat. It was all in the way his friend said it. But it doesn’t do well to point out people’s fallacies when they’re figuring things out themselves. A different tact perhaps.

“Scott cares about you. He’s oblivious sometimes but remember he didn’t just abandon me for Allison, he kinda also abandoned me for you. Okay abandon is overstating things a little, but he had all these 2 new people he cared about suddenly, and very poor time management skills. Scott loved Ally. Still does. It didn’t stop him from being with Kira, and he doesn’t show it, but you and I both know that there’s more to Scott than what’s on the surface. He just handles it differently. Sex is an obvious crutch for him now that he knows how to get it on the regular. But you should have seen his face when he heard that he had another soulmate _out there_ waiting for him. He is a man who believes in love Isaac, and in his heart he’s already making space for his soulmate.”


	2. Kira and Stiles at the airport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles seeing Kira off at the airport before she flies back to New Jersey.

“I’m not blaming you for what happened with Scott.” Kira smiled cheekily. “But you disappeared, and he cheated on me, and then we broke up.”

Stiles winced. How was that not blaming him? He didn’t say anything though. If he’s learnt anything, don’t argue with girls when it comes to their love lives. Stiles looks at Kira’s dad for help, but the man just shakes his head.

“And it’s nice that he’s found his forever soulmate—“ Not true. Isaac hasn’t even told Scott. “But you owe me Stiles.” Kira finished.

“I don’t know who your soulmate is Kira.” He wishes he did. At this point, practically the entirely pack had fleeced him for details on their romantic lives, he feels guilty that he knows next to nothing about Kira’s love life. He doesn’t know about Malia either, but she’s Peter’s daughter so if she’s anything like him, then she has no soulmate.

“C’monnnnnn.” Kira clearly doesn’t believe him.

“I swear on the baby Jesus.”

“You’re not religious Stiles. And I’m a Shinto Buddhist.”

“I swear on baby Buddha?” he tries. 

“Ughhh. Whyyy don’t you know?” Kira is so exasperated, she’s just shaking him back and forth.

“I’ll—keep—look—out—for—your—mate—stop—shaking—me.” Stiles looks at Mr. Yukimura for help, and yet again he is left to fend for himself. Here he is being shaken half to death by his daughter and the man is not even going to save Stiles him.

Kira’s phone goes off, and she lets go to rummage frantically in her purse. “Ugh that’s my alarm.” She finds the phone and snoozes the alarm. “Alright, here give me a hug.” She pulls Stiles in and grips him tight, snuggling her nose into him.

Stiles puts his arms around here and holds firm. “I’ll miss you foxy lady.”

Kira is sniffing tears into his jacket. “I’ll miss you too. Thanks for… coming back. I needed you around. I can’t handle losing you, so don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. Keep an eye on my family. Remember to call me if anything happens, I hate being so far away, uuuugh.”

“I miss you already. I’m so glad to be back. I’ll try not to do anything stupid. And I promise to keep everyone safe until you get back.”

Kira wipes the tears from her face. Stiles catches an older couple watching them from afar. Standing in the airpot like this, they must look like lovers saying farewell. This is partially why the pack wasn’t allowed to come. Kira has a way of turning an airport send-off into a cry-fest. Stiles had to come because he drove her and her dad to the airport.

“Come sweety. We’ll be late for the plane.” Mr. Yukimura gently pulls her out of the hug. “Stiles, nice to see you again. I haven’t gotten a chance to welcome you back, so welcome back.”

Stiles nods at him. “Let me know if you need me to pick you up when you fly back, sir.”

The older man shakes his head. “Thank you Stiles, but it’s alright. I’m not sure how long I’ll be going. I don’t want to be a bother. Hayakushite Kira!”

Kira finally pulls away from Stiles, eyes puffy and damp. “I’ll call you when I land okay?” She sniffs as her father starts walking to departure gate, telling her things in Japanese while she just nods and agrees “Hai hai—“.


	3. Jackson, Stiles and Scott in the car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles picks Jackson up at Sacramento Airport, and picks Scott up from his college dorm on their way back to Beacon Hills.
> 
> A little bit of Scisaac progression.

Stiles spots Jackson through the glass. He’s dressed in a suit, standing next to the baggage carousel waiting for his luggage.

“Seriously Jax, who the hell flies in a suit unless they’re on business?”

Jackson turns his head directly towards Stiles.

“Oh you can hear me can you? Well good, then I can talk at you, but I can’t hear you replies.”

Jackson flashes him the finger, and the lady next to Stiles is scandalised.

 

“Important people.”

“What now?”

“The suit.”

“So you’re important now are you?”

“I must be since it’s Armani.”

Oh it’s on. Jackson can be a jerk all he wants. Wait till he sees Stiles’ car.

 

“Vroom vroom.” Stiles is making sound effects clearly trying to get a rise out of Jackson.

“Jesus Stiles. This is your car? What the fuck is it?”

“A brand new Jeep Renegade in iridescent baby blue. It might be one of a kind. And look,” Stiles opens the boot for Jackson to survey. “Not a single blood stain to get your fancy luggages dirty.”

“These are just Samsonite Stiles. And the plural of luggage is luggage, not luggages.”

Stiles mock gasps. “My mistake professor Jax. And authentic Samsonite luggage you say? Gasp!”

Jackson rolls his eyes and heaves the 2 luggage into the trunk.

The moment they get in the car, Stiles stick his phone into the dock and twists the key and music starts blaring in the speakers.

_Never meant to make your daughter cry… I apologize a trillion times. I'm sorry Miss Jackson oooh_

“I have hours of Jackson 5, Michael Jackson, Janet, any song with the word Jackson in this playlist to celebrate your return man. We’re gonna stroll down the road, roll our windows down, and yell at hot chicks, or guys, it’s up to you, in this baby blue Jeep YO!” Everything Stiles does, he does for others. He’s so giving like that.

 

_Give it to me baby, Uh huh Uh huh._

Stiles is super excited by this song choice. He turns to see Jackson staring at him.

_Give it to me baby, Uh huh Uh huh._

“Why is this song on this list. It doesn’t have anything to do with me?”

_And all the girls say, I’m pretty fly for a white guy._

“Ah yes, but you remember that we used to be in lacrosse together, so I know what you’re packing, and whoar, what a beautiful dick.”

“The word’s not _a_ pretty fly, it’s _I’m_ pretty fly.”

“What?”

“I said—“

“What does it say?”

“ _I’m_ Stiles, _I’m_ pretty fly for a white guy!” Jackson yells, then realises what he’s done.

Stiles just grins widely. “If you say so!” Zing!

Jackson snorts. “It’s what all the girls say,” he sniggers, quoting the lyrics.

“Oh my god! You made a joke. This is the best day of my life.”

“I’m so happy for you, and your dumb car.”

“Would you rather this was Scott’s car?”

Jackson’s eyes go wide as he shakes his head. Scott's car is goddamn horrible.

“Speaking of our fearless alpha, we’re gonna swing by Davis to pick Scotty up before heading into town.” Stiles says as he drives towards Scott’s dorm.

 

“C’mon Scott, make up your mind dude.” Stiles grumbles hurryingly. The energy in the car is frantic trying to get all their orders placed before the car behind them honks.

“Errr… err… no whip, no whip’s fine.” Scott decides in a frenzy.

“And one Double Caramel Frappuccino with no whip please. Thank you!” Stiles says into the mic and drives up to queue at the collection window. Thank you Starbucks for the glory that is drive-thru coffee.

“I can’t believe you drink that shit,” Jackson tells Scott, while Stiles counts the exact change.

“Hey but I said no whip. That’s like, healthier right?” Scott innocently replies. “Right Stiles?”

“Right.” Stiles agrees before turning to Jackson “Forget it dude. Scotty’s got a sweet tooth like nobody’s business,” Stiles informs Jackson. “Always has. Always will. You should see him when there are fresh cookies out of the oven. He’ll pick up 2 cookies, then panic over which one should go in his mouth first,” he says as he passes the money to the counter person.

“It’s maddening. You can smell the cookies baking for ages, but you can’t eat them. It’s like, Oh my god let me eat you.” Scott whines, his belly rumbling a little. “We should get cookies.”

“Too late Scott. Here we go. Take your coffees and for the love of god, don’t spill anything in my brand new car. Derek will kill me if I dirty it in the first week.” Stiles says as he passes each person their coffee, Jackson beside him, Scott in the backseat, then sticks his in the cup holder.

“Ohhh goddd. This is so good.” Scott sighs as he takes a sip. “I should have gotten whip.”

Jackson laughs so manically that Scott stops drinking to stare at him and Stiles almost forgets to drive out of the drive-thru. When he stops, he has tears in his eyes.

Scott puts his arms around Jackson’s from over the seat in an awkward hug. “Me missed you too dude.”

“SCOTT! YOUR DRINK!” Stiles yells but it’s too late. He yells at Scott, and Scott is near to tears, guilty for the spill and sad that he has no drink. Stiles sighs and throws paper towels at Scott, then drives his car around the drive-thru again. This time Scott gets his coffee with whipped cream, and they all get cookies.

 

“I was pleasantly surprised,” Scott says.

Jackson is still in a cheerful mood, which is really strange to Stiles but hey, it’s been a few years. What does he know about Jackson really, nothing.

Stiles on the other hand is loath to hear Scott talk about what he was pleasantly surprised by: Isaac’s soft ass.

“Dude. Bro. I love you, but just like all your other relationships and one night stands, I don’t really want the details.” Stiles grouses.

“But like you’d agree that Isaac doesn’t look like he would have a nice soft ass right? He’s pretty fit. You’d think they’d be firm.” Scott just continues.

Jackson cackles even louder. So weird.

“What is up with you Jax? This is awful. He is talking about Zak’s ass, and you’re enjoying this?”

“I hope his ass is the only thing that’s soft,” Jackson tells Scott.

Stiles groans, but is partially relieved. “They haven’t gotten that far, THANK FUCK, or we will be hearing about it, lemme tell you. Because I had to sit through excruciating details of relationships past.”

Scott just nods seriously at Jackson. “We’re talking it slow,” he says. “But remember the Viagra incident? His dick kinda curves up a little, which I’m hoping means—“

Stiles turns the music on full blast.

_JUST BEAT IT…. BEAT IT…. NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED…._


	4. Stiles and Danny & Ethan on Facetime

“Ethan, as much as I love staring at your perky nips, I have to protest. I’m a practically married man now,” Stiles scoffs when he gets a face full of Ethan’s meticulously bare chest on the screen.

“Shut up, you only wish you had all this,” Ethan teases as he rearranges the view on his end.

“C’mon E, he gets to all up close and personal with Derek. Hubba hubba,” Danny says from just off screen, before he too materialises in the image and sits down next to Ethan.

“Are you guys saying that I’m not a catch. I have it on good authority that I’ve aged pretty well the last magic decade away.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows before breaking into a grin.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love your older man vibe. And that beard, wow! I’m just putting it out there that I’m happy to hubby-swap with you guys anytime.” Danny wiggles his torso in a jig, and all three of them break out in giggles.

“Wait,” Stiles says between chuckles, “which of the two of us do you want Danny, because I distinctly remember you turning me down in high school.”

“I didn’t turn you down you asshole,” Danny quickly interrupts. “I was halfway on board you know. If you had the patience, you could have totally won me over.” That’s not how Stiles remembers it, but he’ll take it anyway.

“This conversation has gone well off track,” Ethan shoulder bumps Danny.

It’s a comfortable rapport they’ve got going. It’s hard to believe that in another life, Ethan was pretty much selling them all down the river to their doom. Times change. Ten years can past in a blink of an eye, or a portal or whatever.

“Okay, okay. Back on track then… Danny, did Ethan talk to you about potentially getting the bite. Keep in mind that we now have the means to ensure that the bite will absolutely take.”

“Yes he did, in his own ridiculous way. He brought it up during sex Stiles, seriously. I was mid thrust when he asked me,” Danny all but yells. Well, as much as Danny can yell. Mostly it sounds like he’s trying to stage shout because he is too well mannered to wake the neighbours since it’s late on the east coast.

“Wow, shameless as always Danny. And is it wrong that I thought that Ethan would be the top, given his historically aggressive disposition.”

“I’m a power bottom Stiles,” Ethan says like it’s so obvious, anyone should have guessed by now.

“Oh believe me when I say, I have experienced a most decidedly toppish Ethan first hand. And yes, I too can play the oversharing game Danny, just FYI.” 

“Oh my god, stop it, this conversation is making me hard. I’m already imagining you giving me beard burn while I call you daddy. I suggest we put this UST on ice for the moment,” Danny snorts out, blushing. “And yes, I would be most happy to accept the bite if it is being offered.” Danny turns to look at Ethan, who is smiling profusely. They look like they’re about to kiss, and with Ethan already half naked this is going south in a sexy hand basket. 

“Whoa hold it up lover boys. You can have your moment later without me watching on screen like a voyeur. Danny, you’ll be such a good werewolf, like amazingly good, not that it should be a surprise by now, and congrats Ethan. I know how much you’re loving this. I will let Scott know. When do you guys think you’ll be visiting? There is a particularly dapper ex-lizard here who has asked about you like, a million times in the last week.”

“Oh god, Jackson? Why did no one tell me he was there,” Danny sighs. “Sometimes I think I won’t know how to be friends with him anymore. He’s so... Jackson.”

“Oh it’s weird. He’s actually pretty chipper. He laughs like, all the time. It’s so strange. He’s here indefinitely apparently, and he’s actually going on all these lunches with his parents. Can you imagine that, because I almost couldn’t. And he used to be your best friend Dan. That kind of friendship doesn’t just die because you guys don’t see each other anymore. He still loves you. I think he always will.”

Danny is silent for a while. “I’m really happy for him, I just… it will be good to…” he stammers before he just stops talking.

Stiles understands the hesitation, but Jackson really has been asking about Danny for the last week since he arrived. He gets the feeling that the two of them will work it out. Probably quicker than Jackson can work it out with Lydia because despite the two of them knowing that they’re soulmates now, they’re still suck in the awkward phase.

“Danny. Come visit soon,” Stiles says before turning to face Ethan. “Ethan, you too. Make sure you both come okay. I assume you know that once Danny gets the bite, there’s no way for you to avoid being pack. I assume you want to be in the same pack as Danny. I know there are packs in Boston, but after everything… we still care. Don’t think we don’t,” Stiles says seriously.

“I know Stiles. And I’d be honoured to be pack, especially if Danny is there,” Ethan says in a sombre tone. “I want this.”

Everyone just stares in silence for a while and it’s almost tense how much emotions are floating through this internet connection before Ethan sheepishly adds, “And you know, there’s better hubby-swapping options in Beacon Hills. I call dibs on Stiles. I wanna find out just how toppish you think I am.”

That does it. The mood is lifted once again and Danny covers his eyes with his palm as he grins widely. “Oh god, I’m not complaining. I’d love me some cousin Miguel.”

Stiles facepalms. “You guys are the worst. I only just got with Derek... finally... I’m not sharing yet.”

“Yet!” Danny and Ethan say in unision.

Oh god.


	5. Danny Gets The Bite

“I now pronounce you a bitten werewolf,” Stiles says in an exaggeratedly deep voice. “You may sniff your mate.”

Ethan and Jackson facepalm in unison. _Jinx._ Deaton takes that as his cue to leave, passing Lydia the bite-withdrawal EpiPen.

“Unbelievable Stiles. That’s so—“ Lydia starts grumbling as she shares a look with Deaton before he steps out. _These kids._

“Oh my god that’s awesome! We should say that for every biting!” Scott says excitedly as he raises his hand for a high five from Isaac, who just smiles at him dopily.

“Congratulations Dan,” Isaac tells his friend while he takes Scott’s raised hand and laces his fingers together rather than high five.

“And to you,” Danny waggles his eyebrows at the linked hands before stretching his neck from side to side. “Somehow I thought I’d feel more… I dunno. Angry maybe? Animally? I just feel a bit tingly and flush, but I was feeling that before the bite.” He lifts the gauze he’s pressing at the side of shoulder to observe the fresh bite mark.

Derek gets up from where he’d been sitting quietly next to Stiles just puts his palm out near Danny’s forehead. “May I?” He puts his palm on Danny’s head after the boy gives his go-ahead. “You’ve got a slight temperature, but it’s good. I’d worry if you felt cold. You’ll take a day or two to turn fully, and some things won’t fully change until your first full moon, like the knot.”

Danny’s eyes go wide. “Did you say **knot**?!”

Stiles swallows a laugh and Derek stays stone-faced for a few more seconds before the edges of his mouth curl up in a slight smirk. A raucous laughter breaks out among the others.

“I can’t believe Derek actually got me,” Danny whines.

“Stiles is a bad influence on him.” Lydia shakes her head. “But I’m honestly surprised you don’t know that knots aren’t real. Don’t you think Ethan would have knotted you by now if he had one.”

“Ethan bottoms,” Stiles says at the same time than Ethan says “I mostly bottom.”

Scott and Isaac are practically out of breath, leaning on each other laughing. Scott is even making that wheezing noise he does sometimes, a habit from his asthmatic years.

Stiles smirks at Lydia when she makes a face. “And I’m a fantastic influence on Derek, I’ll have you know. And don't pretend you didn't laugh. I saw you.” He turns to kiss Derek on the cheek “Good job boo.”

Derek rumbles contentedly as he is prone to doing now that he and Stiles are officially dating-slash-mated.

“So Danny only tops? That’s not the same Danny I know. The Danny I walked in on pleasuring himself with a giant butt plug that time,” Jackson throws it out there.

Derek hides his face in Stiles’ neck and Scott is laughing so hard now that he’s crying. Isaac has just left the room, probably to go collapse somewhere from lack of oxygen.

And that is how Daniel Mahealani becomes a werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but just had to put it out there.


	6. Stiles on the phone with Deputies Hale and Parrish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek likes cookies.

“Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, Deputy Hale speaking. How may I assist you?”

“Hello Deputy Hale. I’ve have an emergency. You see my boyfriend is working the late shift tonight and I’m just so lonely. I just bought a giant box of cookies and I may just eat it all by myself and ruin my low carb diet,” Stiles says sweetly into the handsfree while starting up the Jeep.

A sigh comes down the line. “I’m so sorry to hear that sir,” Derek replies.

“It’s Mr. Man… Bat Man, and I’ll have you know that the box of cookies is huge.”

“What kind of cookies are they Mister… um… Man?”

“Well, it says they’re… Kak-kor Have- Havre-flarn,” Stiles struggles with the pronunciation. “It's oatmeal. They’re from IKEA. I also got another box of ginger ones,” he teases because he knows how much Derek loves ginger snacks. And honestly, Stiles loves watching Derek eat them too because his boyfriend does this weird twitching thing with his nose like the ginger is getting all up in his delicate snout. He can almost hear Derek’s stomach growling over the line, or maybe it’s actual growling.

“Your boyfriend is a lucky man.”

“You know, I was just thinking that. Especially since I’m going to feed them to him while I straddle him and ride—“ 

“Stop!” Derek begs. “I’m stuck here until morning,” he whines.

There’s a clicking sound before another voice comes on the line. “Hello Stiles. You know you shouldn’t disturb Derek when he’s on duty,” Jordan says.

“Ah Deputy Parrish, nice of you to join our private moment,” Stiles grouses while he imagines Derek wincing. So predictable, that one.

“See that’s the thing, you shouldn’t be having private moments when he’s on duty. I can practically feel his erection from across here Stiles,” Jordan grumbles. He and Derek have facing desks since Derek is essentially Jordan’s understudy for the days he goes in, which recently has been practically everyday. Derek groans down the line.

“I wouldn’t have to call him if Dad would just let him be on his off days. He’s only supposed to be there 3 days, 4 max, but you guys have had him in everyday for the past two weeks. What gives Deputy Parrish?”

“We’re not forcing him to be here Stiles. We’re short staffed. Your dad asked him and he agreed,” Jordan reminded him. 

Stiles sighs. It’s a catch-22 for him. Either he lets his boyfriend; a robust werewolf who borderlines on being a night owl anyway, take more night shifts; or his dad will probably have to go in more often. And since he worries about his dad’s health more than he does for a practically indestructible supernatural being, he’s been letting it slide.

“I’m not telling him to stop. I just want to hear his voice,” Stiles sighs. Derek makes a sad hum on his end. “And besides you’re in the call now so you don’t get to talk about wasting time on the phone Jordan. I’m onto you. I know you want cookies too,” Stiles adds to lighten the mood.

“There are cookies?” Jordan says hopefully and Derek growls into the line. Full-on growls, like he’s defending his cookie stash which Stiles knows is exactly what he’s doing. He gets really territorial about food that Stiles brings him. Stiles has seen Derek growl at Malia to get away from the bacon pancakes that Stiles was making for him. He’s pretty sure it goes something like _mate made food for me, everyone fuck off from food_. It’s really enduring but also disconcerting. “Calm down Derek, I’m not bringing the cookies there. I’ve got an early class tomorrow in the preserve so there’s no late night hanging out today. Sorry.”

“But I want cookies,” Jordan complains facetiously. He does it on purpose to get a rise of Derek, which totally works.

“The cookies are _mine_ ,” Derek snarls, before he catches himself and sighs. “Fine we can share.”

“Nyaww… look at you two. Deputy BFFs. Jordan, did Derek invite you to my Dad’s cookout on Saturday?”

“Yeah. And your dad invited the entire station, so I’ll be there,” Jordan says. “I hear it’s going to be huge.”

Oh it sure is if all the gear in the shed is anything to go by. Stiles isn’t even sure what half the things are. “I swear ever since he started getting all this extra time off… you know, now that he overworks Derek, he’s had way too much time to plan this cookout. It turned from getting a new grill, to getting a smoker, there’s a wood fire oven I think, to buying hickory wood chips, and today there’s walnut mulch or something, who the fuck knows. I’m glad he has a hobby, but I think he’s spent more money on this cookout than I’ve ever seen him spend on anything. If he buys a flashy car next, then we’re officially in mid-life crisis mode,” Stiles rants.

“It’s Peter’s influence,” Derek chimes in.

“Oh I know. Don’t think I don’t. That, and he doesn’t have to worry about my college tuition now, or the mortgage. And after he gave me all that shit for letting you buy me a car,” Stiles continues.

“It’s his money though,” Jordan points out, which is true. It’s money his Dad has been putting aside in Stiles’ college fund, which is now redundant since Peter, or rather the pack fund is paying for everyone’s college.

“And I get that. I just mean that Peter has co-opted Dad to have their mid-life crisis together. I’m just… I worry sometimes that Peter will just get bored of Dad and then the party’s over, you know?” As much as he likes the new reformed Peter, and he’s happy that his dad has found something, and someone, to be excited about, he still doesn’t trust Peter entirely. It’s a force of habit.

“We don’t have to figure it out before the cookout though. Let your dad have this.” Jordan says, far to reasonably. It makes his boss is happy, and so Jordan is happy.

“It if makes you feel better, this is how Peter used to be,” _before the fire_ Derek doesn’t say, but Stiles caught it anyway. “And I think he really wants John to be happy, which is a strange thing from him. Usually he doesn’t think about anyone but himself. He used to care about me, but…”

“But then he convinced your girlfriend to get the bite that killed her. Yeah got it. That’s my point. Even a sane Peter can be dangerous. But you’re right, we don’t need to figure this out before the cookout,” Stiles sighs. “Well I’ll leave you guys to it then. Go play backgammon or whatever it is you guys do.”

“Backgammon? We’re not fifty-year-old men Stiles,” Jordan groans.

“Clearly. Fifty-something year old men plan cookouts with their fourty-something year old millionaire boyfriends,” Stiles says, mock exasperatedly.

“Peter is 39,” Derek points out, although not like Stiles knew exactly how old Peter was.

“And Derek’s teaching me how to play Pokemon cards.”

Stiles is dumbfounded. He has no words… unless, “Is that a joke?” He remembers finding that half burnt Charizard foil card in the pile of Derek’s things he saved after the fire but that was _Young Derek_.

“We haven’t started playing. I’m looking up the list of banned cards first,” Derek begins to explain.

Stiles slams down the phone. It’s too much. _He just cannot._


	7. Stiles and Peter discussing The Soulmate Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have ardiously tedious theoretical AU astrophysics bullshit. Sorry.
> 
> I just can't see Peter and Stiles playing mini-golf together ya know what I'm saying.

“Hmmm,” Peter hums thoughtfully.

“What does that— ‘Hmmm’— what do you mean by ‘Hmmm’?” Stiles stammers.

“I’m thinking Stiles,” Peter sighs and stares at the chart on Stiles’ pin board titled ‘Known Soulmates In The Pack’. “You’ve indicated that I have no discernable soulmate, according to this chart, and I just wanted to absorb your reasoning before responding. Have yet to decide if you meant to hurt me or if you simply thought that saying something like that to me wouldn’t in any way affect me,” Peter doesn’t look at Stiles, just continues to stare at the chart.

Stiles is taken aback by Peter’s cold rebuke. “Neither. I’m telling you because I need your opinion on my methodology, and you were gonna figure it out yourself if you looked at the charts so I pre-empted it. Shit. I’m sorry.”

Peter glances sideways at a sheepish Stiles then back to the charts, and then takes a few steps backwards like he’s trying to gaze at the bigger picture. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions, making this chart. For one, you assume that your visitation in each of the universes is somehow outside the realm of its social dichotomy. You assume that by having sexual relations with me here,” Peter points at his name on a post-it note in the section of the board labelled ‘U-5’, ‘U-7’ and ‘U-10’, “that somehow you are not ceding any influence onto the greater soulmate plot because it is ‘outside the normal sample’ but I think you are wrong.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that. He stares at Peter than back at the chart and stays silent. The implication is that not only did Stiles sleep with Peter in other universes, but obviously this Peter, _His Peter_ was not totally averse to it. Stiles and Peter may not be soulmates, but they could be what? Soul fuck buddies? 

Peter raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Oh? Nothing to say for once?”

“Um… two of those times were with Chris?” Stiles winces at the admission.

Peter scoffs. “Yes, and about that. That bitch Victoria is dead in U-5 and U-7, and Chris ends up with me in both those universes. She’s also dead here. Are you saying that if I started dating Chris, then that makes him my soulmate? That’s what we’re assuming now isn’t it? Three makes a pattern?”

Stiles coughs. “Whoa, whoa. You won’t leave dad would you? I mean I don’t know how serious you guys are but he seems happier lately,” Stiles winces as he backpedals.

“I don’t know how serious your dad is with me either, but that may have something to do with my... past… For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t stop coming to him unless he asked me to. It might help if he thought you were okay with us,” Peter says seriously, not giving away too much.

“I… don’t know if I am yet, sorry. I’ll think about it,” Stiles admits. He wants his dad to be happy, but Peter is… well… “Yikes, awkward, let’s move on kay? So I don’t care how many times I’ve slept with you in other universes, the pattern for me is quite narrow. Stiles plus Derek equals soulmates, in every universe I’ve been to. I don’t think my slutty travel phase counts as a pattern.”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t really either. Okay, how about you think of it this way: Soulmates are not really two souls inter-twined forever. Just looking at Scott as an example. He has three supposed soulmates; the order to which he gets together with his soulmates are always the same, which is an anomaly since we don’t know of anyone else with proven multiple soulmates. It’s something I cannot fully account for at the moment so let’s put that aside for now. For everyone else, there are patterns. You and Derek for one, Lydia and Jackson, Your Parents, Jordan and… Laura, Erica and Boyd. I acknowledge the patterns. This isn’t me trying to be a sore loser because I don’t seem to have a strong soulmate candidate. I get that not everyone can have a soulmate. You don’t need to have a life partner to be happy and I was happy being on my own for a long time. What I don’t understand is how this concept of soulmates is even possible.”

Stiles nods. “Neither do we – I mean Lydia and I. The best we can come up with is that is that people are fated to be in each other’s lives, and ‘fate’ is just the alignment of probabilities across similar universes. Most people are fated to be just-friends. Anyway… if you want to talk about fated characteristics, soulmates are one of the more flimsy ones. There plenty of other similarities that are far more concrete – like our names and appearance. Seems to be in every universe I’ve been to, people have the same name, same overall appearance…”

“It’s the differences that bother me,” Peter scratches his chin. “There doesn’t seem to be any extra people. Even with all the deaths,” Peter waves his hand around the board at all the black pins symbolising dead people. “Does that mean people can only die once they’ve had all the children they were fated to have? Does that mean people who’ve died in our universe like Erica, or Boyd, or Allison, were never going to have children? It makes no sense.”

“Age is another thing. Everywhere I’ve gone, people’s ages have been different. Usually the order is similar, but look here,” Stiles points at the post-it with Cora’s name on it in the ‘U-6’ group. “Over here in Universe-6, Cora was born before Derek. That’s the only one of such discrepancies that I’ve noticed, but it’s not like I was really looking.”

“What did Lydia have to say about that?” Peter asks.

“She thinks that if we had a slightly larger sample size of universes, we’ll see more patterns. But she also thinks it’s pointless because there are probably an infinite number more universes, so if we increased our sample size from the 11 universes we have now to let’s say 1 million, all we will see are clusters of similarities among chaos.”

“That’s… she’s an incredibly smart girl.”

“For the record, I’ve have a different theory. It’s similar, although in mine I say that the reason the 11 universes are similar is that they plot close to each other on the standard deviations of universes. Like, perhaps they only branched off from each other a few decades ago, which isn’t long enough for us to see major differences. Not that I’m denying how smart Lydia is. It’s one of the reasons I had such a massive crush on her. Beauty and brains!”

“Yes, yes, we’re all beautiful and smart, the three of us. Don’t deny it. You’ve had sex with me in different universes,” Peter smirks, nodding towards the chart.

Stiles shrugs, brushing off Peter’s remarks. “That was either a threeway with Chris or heat sex! Although I’m not denying it but instead choosing to focus on the fact that you think I’m beautiful and smart, as long as you know this mutual flirting will go absolutely nowhere.”

“Can we talk about that – heat sex, or rather the concept of having heats – because we do not have heats or knots in this universe.”

“That would be a deviation in werewolf myth, which comes under magic, and we know that magic is both similar and different across universes. Similar in the sense that I have managed to use a variation of similar spells to move across universes. Different in the sense like what you mentioned about werewolf heats. Other things I’ve noticed are different – werewolf knotting, magical affinity languages, nemetons, spell ingredients, and the importance of soulmates.”

“I was curious about that. So the people in U-7 can find their soulmates by identifying marks?”

“Yup. And the werewolves in U-10 have dreams about their soulmates from young. Only the werewolves though, and uh… you didn’t have any dreams apparently. You could have been lying, but I don’t think so. Sorry.”

“I already said that I’m not bothered by that. Nothing wrong with being a free-agent as long as there are willing buyers around,” Peter waves it off. “Not to sound indelicate but your father’s soulmate is gone so he is as much of a free-agent as I am.”

Stiles nods. He will always miss his mother, but it’s been almost two decades for him and his heart has mostly healed. He’s good knowing that out there in the parallels, his mother is alive and happy in many universes. “If dad is happy, then I’m happy.”

“He smells happy.”

“Eww,” Stiles crumples his nose. “You did that on purpose.”

“I do everything with purpose,” Peter points out almost too gleefully. “Now let’s try to try some new assumptions on the chart. We should at least be able to come up with a better theory for soulmates that fits with these eleven universes. And no doubt Lydia will mine them for further breakthroughs.”

“No theories of your own?”

“I think you both have good ideas that, like with observations in String Theory, both could be right depending on how you look at the quandary. Lydia thinks that the universes exist in chaos and only form patterns when you look for them. You think that the universes were identical until a variance that occurred relatively recently. I think you are both right,” Peter takes a post-it and writes ‘John & Peter’ on it. He pins it in the middle of the chart in the group labelled ‘U-1’. “I think soulmates exist if you believe they do, and they don’t if you don’t.”


	8. The Cookout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the companion short stories between [THE SLIDER 1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6407212) and [2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6608134).
> 
> I'll start one soon for the post-sequel, but I'll probably finish [Our Universes Collide In Slow Motion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6608134) first, or at least get a few more chapters in first.

“STILES! STILES!”

“Huh, what is it Dad?” Stiles rushes out the backdoor into the yard.

“I need you to run to the store and get me some more steaks. And some lamb chops. Wait, ix-nay on the lamb chops, I won’t have time to marinade it. Steaks are good. Get at least ten or twelve… no, wait, get twenty,” the Sheriff says while arranging and re-arranging the cutlery on the hired (yes, hired!) tables. “My wallet’s in the kitchen, take some—“

“DAD! Oh my god, stop,” Stiles laughs. His father had been driving him up the wall for the last couple of days with his cookout planning. It’s hilarious even if it is annoying. He hasn’t seen his dad nervous like this since he was young and mom’s parents were coming for Christmas.

His dad stopped fussing with a salad bowl and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. This has kinda gotten outta hand hasn’t it,” the sheriff sighs.

“Uh huh,” Stiles agrees.

“Okay, okay. Can you please get ten steaks and some extra soda, plus whatever you think would be good from the store while I’ll try not to burn down the house,” John says forced calmly.

“No need, Dad. Uup, uup, uup, before you say anything; Peter promised to bring a whole deer, remember? I think he will be insulted that you bought any steaks at all,” Stiles smirks at the memory of his father’s maybe-boyfriend offering to go hunt a deer with his bare hands (claws actually, but it’s just semantics). Knowing werewolves in general, especially a pompous one like Peter, he was probably going to bring catch the largest buck, lay it out next to the cookout, and skin it in full view of all his dad’s friends.

“Oh shit, I forgot. Do you think I should put some of the meat away? Peter can get really touchy about stuff like that.”

“Yes you should, and that he can. At least put them at the back of the fridge and only take them out if anyone specifically asks for cow.” Stiles doubts anyone would. Most of his dad’s deputies and his cop friends from surrounding counties wouldn’t want to look squeamish eating hunted deer, the manly men of Manland that they are. And the ladies in the police force, well, if Stiles has learnt anything about women in uniform, it’s that they are twice as hardworking, but get half the as respect, and are therefore twice as tough, needing half the coddling. They will either eat deer or they won’t, but they’re not going to be squeamish either way. Somehow he suspects Peter would have thought of that too, in his quest to impress. “Hey dad, I think Peter will bring more than just deer.”

“Did he say something to you?”

“No but ya know, it’s Peter. I bet you he cares about impressing you twice as much as you care about this cookout going smoothly. Don’t be surprised if he brings hand caught trout, handpicked beets, a hand forged meat barbeque sword… anything to remind you of his hands really.”

John looks like he’s considering Peter’s comely hands.

“Oh my god, forget I said anything. It’s hours till the first guests arrive. Why don’t you go wash up and have a nap. You’re going to be up way past your bedtime old man, a short lie down would be good for your blood pressure. Plus, Scott is coming in a bit to help me set up the living room. We can fix up the yard too while we’re at it.”

John looks at him suspiciously. “By set up the living room, you mean set up the Xbox and play games for hours,” the sheriff adds.

“You gave him all my games!” Stiles points out. “And don’t worry, I’ll just put the cutlery in a bucket for people to take. And seriously, setting out the plates? Don’t bother dad. This isn’t a restaurant and theses are just plastic,” Stiles flicks the edge of the disposable plate. “Just put them in a stack here and it can be self-serve. Anything else you need later, we’ll get someone on it kay. I’ll get some guys to help out, I mean that’s what having a pack is for.”

The Sheriff looks like he’s about to protest, but then sighs and nods his head.

 

Once his dad had gone back in the house, Stiles dials Derek on his cell.

“Stiles?” Derek asks into the phone when he picks up. It’s never ‘Hey babe’ or ‘Hi honey’, not when his boyfriend thinks every call is the precursor to an emergency.

Stiles on the other hand, is all petnames. “Hey matewolf. My dad was driving me crazy with this cookout planning. He was fussing over table settings. Table settings, Derek!” Stiles complains. “Please tell me Peter has come through on that deer.”

Derek chuckles, and Stiles wishes this was Facetime so he could see that gorgeous smile. 

“We went deer hunting this morning. We downed three bucks before Peter was satisfied. First it was too small. Then the antlers were too damaged. I swear it was like he was Goldilocks.”

Stiles laughs at that. “Sounds like your uncle. What’s he going to do with all that deer? He can’t just leave it out there. It will freak out the rangers. They already think we have a mountain lion infestation.”

“The large buck is going to be for show. He’s skinning the other two for meat. We’ve already loaded the car with, and I quote, ‘carefully paired companion wines’. There’s also plenty of beer but we just picked one that had deer antlers on the label. ”

“Peter’s putting a lot of stock in the deer,” Stiles hums.

“Eh. Hunting game can be a courtship ritual, if you’re into that sorta stuff.”

“You’ve never caught me a deer,” Stiles pouts.

Derek snorts. “I bought you a car. And I’m not a bumpkin. My parents didn’t even exchange game in their courtship, and my mother was next-in-line to be alpha too. It’s just not a thing that’s done anymore, except for Peter.”

Stiles pretends to ignore Derek’s explanation. “I can’t believe my dad gets a deer and I don’t. Alas, I have shamed the Stilinski name, for I did not choose the correct Hale. Oh Artemis, Satet, goddesses of the hunt. I lay before you, weeping, for my mate hath doth not caughteth me a deereth on this dayeth—“

“I’ll get you Starbucks on the way over.”

“Oh my glorious mate!” Stiles declares loudly and in earnest. “I love you so much. I will give you so many blowjobs and—“

“STILES!” his father yells from upstairs. Oops.

Derek sighs. “I love you too.”

 

“That was easy. Don’t know what you dad is stressing about?” Scott tells Stiles as they set up the last of the hired equipment in the yard.

“It’s easier for you guys because you’re werewolves. My dad and I almost died trying to move that woodfire oven. Portable, my ass.” Stiles sits down as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

Liam and Mason emerge from the backdoor into the yard holding 4 beers, looking at Scott hopefully. Scott in turn looks at Stiles in the clear signal of _Don’t look at me, ask your mom_.

“Oh what the hell, Liam won’t even get drunk on this stuff anyway,” Stiles shrugs as he accepts one of the beers. “Just don’t let anyone see you drinking later. This place will be crawling with off-duty cops. If you’re going to drink, do it in my room, and if you’re going to get drunk, go home. I don’t want anyone making dad look bad. This means you too Scott. Although, thanks for helping out guys. This means a lot to me and dad.”

“My birthday’s in a month.” Scott points out as he takes a swig.

“A month and three weeks Scott. I keep telling you ‘next month’ and ‘in a month’ are two different things. My dad will take a lot of flack for that if anyone finds out, which no one will because you will NOT be getting blind drunk and offering people handjobs,” Stiles looks at Scott accusatorily.

“I won’t do that,” Scott whines.

Mason scoffs and gives Liam a wink. “Sure he won’t.”

Scott looks sheepish when he remembers that he hooked up with Liam during his _fuck the pain away_ phase. “I’m with Isaac now.”

“We weren’t drunk, just horny. But Stiles is right. This is the sheriff’s gig. Don’t worry, I’m not having any of the wolfsbrew tonight. I don’t wanna freak Hayden out anyway. It’s still cool that she comes right? She’s only gonna drop it for a bit,” Liam asks Scott. When his alpha nods, he relaxes and takes a swig of the beer.

Mason pushes Liam’s shoulder. “Introducing your girlfriend to the man in your life huh? Maybe Scott can give her pointers on how to make you— oh shit” Mason face turns pale when he realised what he’s blurted out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry Scott. I just… it was a joke.”

Scott, being his usual happy forgiving self just pffts and flicks his hand. It eases Mason considerably, which catches Stiles attention. The teen is obviously angling for a full pack invite soon, probably even the bite. Stiles doesn’t know much about Mason except that he’s young, gay and Liam’s best friend, but it bodes well for the Hale Pack if humans who know the pack’s secret want to be a bigger part of it anyway, warts and all.

“C’mon you guys. Let’s go play Halo or something,” Stiles pats his best friend’s back as he nods for the others to go inside.

 

Peter looks casual yet regal standing next to the grill, flipping venison steaks. Stiles has got to hand it to him. Somehow he makes grilling look like an artform. Peter has semi-taken over from his dad, who at first insisted on cooking for everyone but slowly got caught up chatting with his cop friends. His father is still wearing the apron, but Peter doesn’t seem to mind that his designer button down is getting splattered on. If Stiles is being honest, it’s form fitting and a little dirt just makes the older man look kinda rugged and dashing.

To the side of their huge yard is a large buck half slumped on the ground, half leaning against Peter’s Chevy, antlered head propped up, the claw marks carefully obscured on its leaning side. As Stiles predicted, Peter went all out, bringing with him cases of expensive wine, boxes of “deer beer” (as everyone’s taken to calling it), self-made charcoal of wood from the Hale property, as well as fancy Japanese white charcoal that he had imported to grill the hand-caught trout (Fucking trout. Stiles called it.). He and Peter actually talked at length about the Binchotan charcoal. It burns white and without smoke; fascinating stuff.

It’s a good turnout, bigger than expected, and Stiles is happy for his dad. It will go a long way to repairing Beacon Hill’s Sheriff’s Department’s reputation after he got his dad fired that time, all the mysterious murders, dead cops, animal attacks, Rafael McCall… 

“Dude, I think the mayor just arrived,” Scott tells Stiles as he comes around from the other side of the yard.

Stiles nods. “Yeah I heard that. A lot of big names. Three out of the four sheriffs invited came. Hell, even Sheriff Jose from Redding and he normally hates dad,” Stiles points out a military looking man. “Look at him laughing over there like he and dad are old buddies or something. This is unreal. I suspect Peter has been buttering them up in secret somehow.”

“Maybe it’s the opposite. They want dat sweet Hale Foundation donations, so they be sucking up,” Scott says.

“Could be... Doesn’t matter to dad though. He’s having a great night. And every cop and fire officer 3 counties over are going to be talking about this cookout for a while.”

Scott smirks and points to the buck. “That guy is gonna take half the credit for that.”

They laugh together for a moment, staring at the over-the-top, albeit impressive animal.

Just then, Derek walks out into the yard towards them.

“Did you send Liam and Mason home?” Stiles asks his boyfriend as way of greeting. Derek was since the party started but left to send their two pack helpers (and one smiley girl) home.

“Nah, they wanted to go to the mansion. Malia and Ethan have turned assembling spare bedroom IKEA furniture into a taste testing party somehow. The rest of the pack went there,” Derek tells them.

“Ooh. It might still be going later,” Scott says excitedly and pulls out his phone to text someone, probably Isaac.

Stiles pulls Derek in for a chaste kiss. “You should go mingle. Jordan looks like he could use a wingman,” Stiles nods towards Jordan sitting with a group of non-Beacon Hills people, awkwardly smiling at a blonde woman across from him.

Derek gasps “Oh shit. I think that’s Sheriff Jose’s daughter” he says before he walks towards Jordan.

Scott chuckles as he puts his phone away. “Where’s Derek going?”

“Mingling. And to wingman for Jordan, or save him, it wasn’t very clear.”

“Bro. I wouldn’t want Derek to wingman for me ever. He’s like catnip for the ladies. She’s gonna wanna rub up on him instead of Jordan,” Scott states as he cranes his neck over the crowd to see Derek introduce himself to the table.

When Stiles spots the woman’s bright smile as she introduces herself to Derek he think _Uh oh_ , and then he hears Scott giggling next to him. It’s a slow build that he recognises as the atom bomb of Scott’s laughters. Moments later, Scott is bent over clutching his stomach with one hand and covering his face with another as he tries to contain his giggles. It doesn’t work and soon he’s laugh-crying into his hands, wheezing like he’s an asthmatic again.

“Why? What happened?” Stiles asks hurridly as he looks between Scott’s shaking body and the table where Derek is now seated. Jordan is smiling too now, more at ease with his work-slash-pokemon buddy next to him. Derek will probably tell the girl that he’s in a gay relationship any time now, which would stop any misdirected attention from her. What was so funny?

Scott wheezes and clutches himself and looks like he’s about to pass out from laughter. Luckily but mostly people are just too occupied in their own conversations, smiling and having fun, to bother with one maniacal laughing young man.

“Dude. You alright. You need water?” Stiles pats his best friend on the back.

Scott chokes out intermittent laughter, but the main fits seems to have passed. “Ghtt… nah I’m gggh-good. It’s just ghhtt… Her nnn-name…” Scott struggles to say as he holds back laughter. “Her name is _Jordana_ —“ and he loses it again.

 

The party is mostly wound down when Stiles and Derek retire to their bedroom. The sheriff is still downstairs playing a good host to the dozen or so stragglers. Peter, against the personality odds, has made friends with the people from the Beacon Fire Department. Apparently one of the old timers remembers physically pulling Peter out of the Hale Fire and Peter, being the morbid zombie that he is, leveraged that macabre experience and made a new drinking buddy (go figure). Stiles overheard a conversation where Peter was telling a captive oft gasping audience all about the various (fictitious) reconstructive surgeries he had to go through.

“It took everything in me to not laugh when Jordana introduced herself,” Derek smiles as he strips out of his shirt.

Stiles wants to laugh along with him, but he is waylaid by Derek’s beautifully sculpted torso. “I’m sorry, it’s funny I agree, but wow… you should see the view I have right now. Phoar!”

Derek smiles turns to a look of utter contentment. “I’m the lucky one,” Derek says softly, bypassing Stiles’ words and going straight for the heart of it.

A short companionable silence falls over the room as the two men strip out of their clothes. Stiles doesn’t want the moment to be over yet, as much as he wants to jump Derek, so he tries to strike up one last conversation instead. “So… what do you think of Mason,” he asks, stealing glances at Derek’s bulge through his boxer briefs.

Derek moves closer to his mate, grazing his fingers on Stiles arms. “He’s a good kid. Gives Liam someone to talk to since everyone else in the pack is older,” he says as he places a palm on Stiles’ chest, playing with the chest hair.

Stiles heart is beating like a jackhammer but he holds on to the last vestiges of his cool. “Think he’s going to ask to be pack soon,” he stammers.

“Probably,” Derek says as he flicks the tip of his index finger over the older man’s perky nipple. “Now… I think someone promised me all of the blowjobs.”

_Fuck it._

Stiles puts his hand behind Derek’s head and pulls his boyfriend in for a sensual kiss.

He has everything. His soulmate. His father. His pack. And soon, college.  
_**It's good to be home. ******_Mom, if only you could see me now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the fluffiness.


End file.
